Zydrate Anatomy
by DemonStripper
Summary: Amused eyes of ruby pointed towards the sky, tracing the shapes of buildings and wispy clouds as if he had all the time in the world to admire the sight. His arms crossed as he spoke, no worry present in his voice despite his dire situation, "Is it that time already? How the years fly… I have been waiting ever so patiently for you, repo man. Or should I say, Ciel Phantomhive?"


**Written for Halloween Sebaciel Week on Tumblr. This is based on Repo the Genetic Opera, so it may not make complete sense if you haven't seen it.**

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Turquoise is such a lovely colour. It is in this form anyways. Zydrate, the potent liquid that would drive anyone mad with desire for more. Alluring, addicting, mind-numbingly brilliant. That's what they all say anyways - the addicts that is. I have never met any of them personally nor have I sampled the liquid they spent small fortunes on, but I have heard stories of one of the city's most notorious graverobbers and the trouble he goes to when collecting his products. However, he was skilled and could be in and out of a mausoleum, with more than enough Zydrate to easily last two years, faster than a repo man could spot his unfortunate victim.

The man didn't exactly blend into the crowd with all of his buckle covered jeans and leather coats, not to mention the shining dress shoes he wore or the torn tanktop of ebony hugging his chest beneath the studded jacket. He was certainly one of the stranger thieves from his odd style to his talent for hiding in the shadows as if he was one of GeneCo's finest bodyguards. He was good, so good that the higher-ups at GeneCo had begun to refer to him as a devil; he was far too good at what he did to be considered human. Had there been records of it, I would have believed he had a few enhancements made for more than vanity or necessity. A job boost was always nice and the money offered for the smallest vial of Zydrate was more than enough for him to afford some sort of upgrades to his unscathed body to make him more talented at what he did. Except he sold much more than a vial - he sold at least ten a night. For two weeks now I have watched him.

In the beginning it was out of fascination. At the time, I had nothing better to do. Organ repossession rates were surprisingly low last August, I was honestly surprised I wasn't sacked in that time, though I suspect it's because the company head knows better than to leave well-trained assassin's free from their rule lest they lose their head. The hours void of action left me with nothing more to do than roam the streets in search of entertainment; I found that in the form of people watching and he truly was interesting. He liked to flirt with men and women alike, drawing them in with his pretty words and empty promises, all to make another sale. Surely his willing victims expected nothing more though when they were left rutting against his other 'patients', with the graverobber's name on their lips despite his absence. What a cruel man it took to infatuate others and leave them begging for more with nothing more than a smirk tugging at his lips. Perhaps he wasn't in the business for money - he just enjoyed the attention. In my time spent hiding behind and sometimes in the limbs of the barren trees edging the cemetery, I learned a lot from him. For example, the drug he harvested from the dug up corpses was always pulled from the nostril or pupil and despite the quantity available from each body, it took too long to draw more than once from a single pile of remains. A second thing was that every mausoleum donned an alarm. A broken wall or forced entry via door would set it off, but a key or lock pick wouldn't trigger it so long as he was precise in the movements. Any roughness on the handle would blare the siren just as quickly as a hammer to the wall, alerting the mercenaries from another department of the ongoing theft. But the most significant, and might I add delicious, thing I learned, was that even graverobbers need to release tension every once in awhile.

For half an hour I sat in rapt attention, watching those long black-tipped fingers fisting that throbbing cock as he sat with his back pressed to a headstone, honoring the unknown who lied beneath the ground behind him with a final jerk and a spattering of white across the dead grass where he perched. That intoxicatingly filthy scene had roused my own excitement into attention and while I later felt shame for my own erotic display, the fresh thoughts of that devious face and the lazy sliding of his palm across his proof arousal made me cum harder than I remembered having done before. To this day, the memory of that event still brought a blush to my face and a deeply sated desire for my hand to be the one wrapped around that thick girth. After that night, I was extra careful not to be caught, it wouldn't do to ruin my chance to watch another show like that one. To my knowledge, I never failed to go undetected by the ink-haired graverobber, so no harm was done. I had no intentions of disturbing his work, sales, or private moments, I was merely curious. But sadly, it is time for that curiosity to end. I have a job to do.

Just this afternoon, roughly one hour before dusk and two hours after the particularly brutal repossesion of a kidney, I was given a new target by my supervisor while still covered in the blood and tears of the newly deceased. My supervisor really was quite a terrible man, with even worse intentions than he let on. His golden eyes and psychotic grin made all of his underlings tremble in fear; I will admit he appears quite intimidating, but his skill in no way matches mine. What I lack in muscle, I make up for in speed and weaponry. If need be, I could easily overpower him, though I wouldn't make it far passed the gates if I decided to follow through with that - not with security on my ass. It wasn't as if I would do it unprovoked anyways, but he had certainly threatened me enough to tempt me a few times. Either way, it was an interesting thought all the same and I barely managed to bite back a laugh. It wouldn't do to give myself away, but the fact that Mr Faustus knew nothing of my prowess was still entertaining to me. He instructed the repo men regarding their jobs, and yet he never truly understood what that entailed. Such a fool.

Pushing away those thoughts, my eyes stayed trained on the man at the corner of the street, watching as the he smiled with closed eyes and offered the woman beside him a glass container containing that all too familiar blue, accepting the cash offered in exchange before waving smugly to the back of the departing figure. With his back against the chipped brick behind him, mahogany eyes turned crimson beneath the dim light shining above him, it's yellow-tinted light flickering ominously every ten seconds. Sebastian was his name, or so I had heard from one of the ladies gushing about him a few blocks back. 'Handsome and in possession,' she had purred to the man who's lap she was perched upon, receiving a groan from her partner and a puff of smoke directed opposite of where she sat. The name was fitting somehow. It was noble, this man certainly wasn't, but the dark and dangerous vibe it gave off matched the tall man well. With my knife still sheathed within the leather holster upon my belt, I rose from where I knelt upon the last landing of a rusted apartment stairway, silently relieved that no more than gentle clicks had sounded from my worn boots when I descended the broken stairs.

What a shame it was to waste a steady business and a pretty face such as his, but despite his large sum of money, he had failed to pay back the cost of his surgery. A faulty liver replaced with a functioning one; it wasn't cheap, but it was far from being the most costly of the services offered by GeneCo, and Sebastian clearly had the coin to spare. So why would he not pay? I rolled my eyes. He probably assumes he can escape his fate, and yet he doesn't know I am here. One long leg crossed over another as said man leaned his head back against the partially charred brick of the condemned building, one sable-nailed hand running through his hair as his lips curved upwards. Amused eyes of ruby pointed towards the sky, tracing the shapes of buildings and wispy clouds as if he had all the time in the world to admire the sight. His arms crossed as he spoke, no worry present in his voice despite his dire situation, "Is it that time already? How the years fly… I have been waiting ever so patiently for you, repo man. Or should I say, Ciel Phantomhive?" I stood frozen, one hand grasping the hilt of my knife, ready to attack at any given moment. I could have already done so, but I wasn't too eager to repossess the property of my boss' company without learning more first. I needed to stay on high alert though, this graverobber was lethal. It wouldn't be the first time he had gotten blood of the living on his hands, I watched him slit the throat of his last repo man three days ago, but he didn't seem to bothered by my presence. He knew me, but how? He hadn't turned to face me and had he managed to sneak a peak somehow, I remained masked. Unless he knew they would send me in place of the last assassin?

No matter how he knew me, until now I never had a reason to approach him since the execution of graverobbers is below my paygrade, and as long as the job was done at some point tonight, I don't see the harm in indulging in this small want of mine. Somehow I knew he wouldn't lay a hand on me. "Do I know you, graverobber?" I asked, clinging to the shadows as I awaited his reponse. "No, but I know you. Your mother used to be quite the singer, I saw her with my sister at the opera when I was just a child. I saw you too, watching from the front row. But then, by some stroke of luck, I saw you again a few years ago and found myself intrigued. How ironic that you became the very thing that killed your mother."

My teeth grit together as I clenched my hand around the item below it; unfortunately, that was my blade. I hissed, quickly jerking away from the offending knife without further injuring the bleeding palm. Prior determination to learn more about Sebastian now dampened by rage, "You know nothing about me so don't pretend that you do! I am nothing like that asshole! He murdered my mother in cold blood, she paid for her surgery with her voice and he defied their mutual agreement. But that aside, your time has come. I had hoped to find out a bit more about what makes you so interesting to all of the people on the street, but if you only plan to insult me and my family then I have no more time to listen to your nonsense," With a sigh, I calmed myself and I slipped from the darkness and into the light, watching him warily. He hoped to rile me for his amusement, but I refused to give into his twisted humor. I was not at all surprised to see him staring back at me with no obvious regret at his accusation. "You say that, but your weapon still strays from your hand; too many questions are eating at your mind for you to kill me yet. And while you say her passing was without reason then why would a repo man do it? I have never seen one act upon their own will."

"I am doing so now, if I weren't than you would already be gutted and spilling out that precious blood all over the sidewalk by now. But as I was saying, despite common belief, it was the boss' daughter who did it. She was jealous you see, her voice was that of a dying cat while mother had the voice of an angel. She could never take the stage while the great Rachel Phantomhive still breathed, but with her gone, what competition would she have?" I chuckled bitterly at the reminder of that poisonous woman. She will get what she has coming soon enough, I have everything I need to make her suffer, to bleed and beg until she wished for her own demise. But that wasn't my priority at the moment, I needed to bide my time for a little longer until the perfect chance to strike arrived.

"Ah, I see what it is then," the man cooed, "You are only there because you are plotting. Infiltrating from the inside all while taking out your anger on those without the funds to pay for their extra years of life. How very clever and cruel of you." Finally shifting away from the wall, a unnatural glow of teal caught my eye, long fingers retrieving a little glass vial from the pocket of his trench coat. He held it in front of my face, an all-too-enticing smile curling his lips as he spoke again in a deeper baritone, "If that is the case, then I take it you only became a repo man to get closer to her. That means you have no real reason to kill me, especially since I have stolen no organs. Not to replace my own anyways." No stolen organs? But what about the liver!? As if knowing exactly what I planned to say, he cut me off before I even had the chance to open my mouth, "I did steal one, but only to draw you here. All of my parts are one-hundred percent original." Pale hands smoothed over his shirt as he moved closer, the palm bare of Zydrate pulling a syringe-tipped gun from his coat's inner-pocket, "And since you have no need to truly dispose of me for now anyways, then what do you say to a little tester? You are tense, that much is easy to see, and this would take the edge off."

I rolled my eyes. Of course, he wants me to make a purchase… "I don't want it and I won't use my money on it. Now if you don't want to die, then you had better give me a reason to spare you, because if I let you go, I am putting my own life at risk." He tsked mockingly, drawing up the aqua substance in the needle gun before tossing aside the vial where it shattered against the crumbling apartment complex on the corner. His other hand rose to my face, tugging at the leather strap holding my face covering in place in suggestion. I narrowed my eyes, scanning his body for weapons before unhooking the mask and allowing it to clatter to the ground when I found none. "Much better," the soot-haired man said, studying my face now that it was revealed to him, "You're more lovely than I remembered." With a scowl in place I crossed my arms, eyebrows raising in indignation, "Do not call me that." It was nice to know that my interest in him wasn't entirely unfounded and that my voyeurism might not have been as creepy as it made me feel at the time, but at the same time his words called forth a blush I loathed to let him see. "Why not? You've gone all pink so surely it isn't as bad as you make it seem," Sebastian grinned. "I wasn't going to charge you for this though, it was a mere suggestion. Between this," he paused to tap a nail against the item in his hand before poking his lips upon speaking again, "And these… I swear I could make sparing me worth your while. I'll even give back the liver if you'd like, it's still viable and stored in a cold box." I stared at his lips in silent contemplation, weighing my options. Kill the graverobber and be on my way? Or live out the fantasy now turning in my mind at the implications of his words. Those lips do look quite skilled and I'm sure his tongue isn't bad either. "The Zydrate, how long does it last and how will it affect me?"

"Six hours at most if you are particularly susceptible to its effects. As for the effects, it varies. For a select few, hallucinations and fainting are a possibility if given a full vial, but if I give you only half of this, it will do nothing more than amplify your pleasure and help you forget about everything but the present until it wears off." I chose my words carefully, not wanting to give him free reign, but also willing to let go of control enough to allow him to prove his worth for future endeavors. Anticipating my approval, he knelt before me and pushed the hem of my shirt and coat away from my skin, pressing his lips to the bare flesh of my hip immediately after it came into view. A steady hand raised my right leg to his shoulder and my back met the coarse brick behind me as his mouth curled into a sly smile, garnet orbs still awaiting some form of confirmation. With a deep breath, I nodded, giving him the go ahead as a brief sting met the crease of my thigh and an overwhelming sensation followed. It was like my body was buzzing with restless energy as a sudden, intensely powerful desire struck me, leaving me almost dizzy at the force in which it came on. Barely a second passed before I was leaning down to his level, mouth hungrily devouring his as his lips and tongue pressed back with need as equally desperate as mine. The fun was just beginning.


End file.
